


I'll Make This Feel Like Home

by HazHas4Nips



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (I guess except it's in the future), Canon Compliant, Coming on Face, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Kid Fic, Louis and Harry keep messing up and almost saying something explicit in front of their kids lol, Louis-centric, M/M, Making Out, Rimming, side Ziam (obviously)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazHas4Nips/pseuds/HazHas4Nips
Summary: Louis Tomlinson has always loved football, and he's lucky enough to have beautiful children who also love football.It's the 2022 World Cup, and Louis' family is ready to for England to DESTROY the competition.Lots of family fluff with a bit of smut thrown in at the end.Inspired by Louis' tweet on June 24, 2018: "Also are kids at primary schools still allowed to paint their faces and watch the game !? Always got everyone excited when I was younger?"





	I'll Make This Feel Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Title from One Direction's song "Home" mostly because I couldn't think of anything else and I love this song and it could totally be about a family. Titling is hard, my dudes
> 
> This is my first ever family/future fic, so that's pretty cool! I don't know if it's any good, but it was fun to write. This is a really indulgent piece because I absolutely love thinking of Louis and Harry being incredible parents. It makes me so soft ugh. 
> 
>  
> 
> REMINDER: this is all completely a work of fiction. I know absolutely nothing about the lives of any of the people mentioned in this, nor do I claim to. I only wrote this because it makes me happy. If you don't agree with the characterization or storyline or anything else, I don't mean to upset you at all!! I'm just trying to do something that makes me happy and hopefully makes others too. I am absolutely in no way claiming that anything in this fic should be taken to mean anything about the real people this story is based on!!!
> 
> On that note, it is a lovely story. Way more domesticity than I've ever written before. 
> 
> It is the least smutty thing I have ever written. There's only a little bit at the end. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I guess it's up to you guys.
> 
> ENJOY, LOVELIES!!!!

“Daaaaaaaaddddddddaaaaaaa, you’re pulling too hard.”

“Sorry, sweetie. We’re almost done, I promise, and then you’re going to look so pretty.”

“I know, Dada, I’m always pretty.”

Louis chuckles and shakes his head, knowing fully well that it’s his own fault he has such a quick-witted, sassy daughter. Plus, he's the one who’s always telling her she’s the prettiest girl in the world, so he really brought this on himself. Really though, he is glad to see that she’s actually internalized his praise, not wanting her to ever question her self-confidence.

Concentrating on the project before him, Louis works quickly to finish braiding his daughter’s hair, humming and nodding sporadically to let her know that he’s listening to her three-year old babbling. He finishes up the long French braid, tying off the blonde strands with a bright red ribbon that she specifically picked out herself.

“All done, Lil. What do you think?” Louis’ been braiding his sisters’ hair since he was a kid, so he’s had quite a bit of practice and would consider himself quite exceptional at braiding hair. But he also knows that Lily can be quite particular about things, and god forbid he messed up even one point of the braid.

Lily hops up from her seated spot in front of Louis and runs over to the mirror, cocking out one hip as she scrutinizes her pint-sized reflection. Louis waits with bated breath for what feels like a lifetime before she twirls around and throws herself into Louis’ arms, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

Louis thinks he’s done a pretty good job with the whole parenting thing if you ask him.

“I look like a princess!” She shrieks, her childlike laughter filling the room. Louis nods and laughs along with her. “I’m an even prettier princess than Papa, right?”

This causes Louis to throw his head back in a real, full-bodied laugh. He squeezes Lily tight and blows a raspberry to the top of her head. “You really are the prettiest princess,” he assures her. “But speaking of Papa, he’s trying to put your sister down for a nap, so” and in a loud stage whisper he adds on, “we need to be really quiet.”

Lily’s eyes widen and she nods her head, bringing both pointer fingers up to her mouth in a shushing motion. Louis keeps one arm wrapped around her but extracts his other arm to mirror her pose.

She giggles at him but quickly shushes herself, looking shocked that she broke her own rules. Louis smiles widely at her, eyes crinkling with the intensity of the smile, and places one more kiss on her forehead before letting go and pushing himself into an upright position.

He stretches out his cramped limbs and looks over to the other side of the room where his son, Lily’s twin brother, has been sitting on his bed the whole time, his nose buried in a picture book.

He’s just started to learn his alphabet, and he’s been absolutely obsessed with trying to read everything he can get his little hands on. Louis has been telling anyone who will listen, and most of the people who don’t listen but can’t escape Louis, that Mason is a genius and going to be someone really important some day.

Louis crosses the room and plops down next to his three-year old son, ruffling his hair a bit as he leans over his shoulder to see what he’s reading. Mason’s face is scrunched up in concentration, and he uses one finger to point along as he reads; Louis’ heart swells with pride as he watches him.

“‘Kay kiddos, should we get to the main event?” Louis asks. Both pairs of blue eyes turn to him, lighting up at the same time. The twins start cheering together, “yayyyyy,” and Louis scrambles to shush them.

“The baby!! We’ve got to be quiet while she sleeps!” Louis whisper shouts, able to grab a kid in each arm, pulling them into a tight hug. He peppers their faces with kisses until they’re both squirming and collapsing into puddles of giggles, no longer screaming and putting anyone in danger of facing a cranky, nap-deprived infant.

He makes a big show of shushing them, and they over exaggeratedly shush him right back as he walks over to the dresser and picks up the hairbrush from the top.

He and the twins make a big show of sneaking out of their shared room and down the hall to the bathroom, all pretending to be secret agents creeping around in silence so as not to alert the enemy that they’re there.

Once they’re all in the bathroom without waking the baby, Louis sets up shop. He puts down the toilet seat and sets one twin on it, occupying them with his phone for the moment. He’s not one for giving the kids extra screen time, but he needs to distract one while he works on the other, and he can’t afford to have a squirmy three year old climbing all over him right now.

He crouches down so that he’s face to face with Mason, the noises of whatever game Lily’s playing beeping in the background. He quickly gets to work applying the face paint to Mason, Louis’ nose scrunched and a bit of his tongue poking out the side of is mouth in concentration. Mason squirms around a bit and shrieks out a few giggles when the makeup is too cold or the sponge applicator tickles him, but overall he behaves really well.

It doesn’t take long and then Louis’ plucking the phone out of Lily’s hands and putting Mason in her place on the toilet seat “throne,” as Lily calls it. Lily is much more vocal about Louis’ makeup application, constantly questioning whether Louis’ making it as “pretty” as possible. Louis sometimes if she has a little too much Tomlinson in her blood, knowing from experience how being an opinionated and demanding kid can exhaust your parents.

When both three-year olds have England flags painted on their faces, Louis straightens up to start painting his own face. He even shaved and put in contacts for the first time in days in order to be ready for this.

Just as he’s about to swipe on the first blob of red, Lily and Mason are both leaping up and attaching themselves to his legs, clinging on and nearly pushing him off balance. Louis has to remind them to be quiet several times before he understands what Lily is trying to say, to which Mason is quietly going along with, the ever dutiful brother.

Louis shakes his head, the fond splitting his face into a wide smile as he catches what their diabolical toddler selves have formulated. He plops onto the floor, and comes face to face with the twins on either side of him.

Ever the dramatic, Louis huffs and puffs, earning himself lots of giggles from the toddlers, before finally handing over the red and white face paint, knowing full well that there can’t really be anything good to come of letting toddlers have free reign to put face paint all over him.

Luckily, he has the two smartest toddlers in the whole world, he’d reckon, and they both work hard to replicate the flags on their own faces. Louis feels astounded by the intense determination on their faces, two noses scrunched up in twin masks of concentration. Mason quickly tosses the sponge applicator aside and begins painting with his chubby little fingers, and Lily follows his example almost immediately.

Of course this leads to a giant mess, the twins getting paint all over their hands, but by the time they finish, there’s definitely a semblance of an English flag covering Louis’ face, which is more than he had originally hoped for. After washing their hands thoroughly and cleaning up the countertops, knowing how much his husband values keeping their house clean, Louis checks the time on his phone as he ushers the kids out of the bathroom and towards the staircase.

Lily leads the way down, hopping and twirling and whipping her braid around as she goes. Louis’ already halfway down the stairs before he realizes that Mason’s not with them. Turning around, he sees Mason standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and thumb in his mouth. When he sees his dad looking, he reaches out his other arm and makes little grabby motions in Louis' direction.

Louis knows that you’re not supposed to baby the kids and give in to their every request, but his son just looks so fricking cute with the signature Tomlinson blue eyes and the child-size England jersey that still somehow manages to look like he’s swimming in it. So Louis ignores the parenting protocols and gives into the adorable little face before him.

He jogs back up the stairs and scoops Mason up in his arms, making sure to not smudge either of their meticulously put on face paint. Mason continues to suck his thumb but smiles wide around it now that he’s got his dad’s full attention. Louis makes rocketship sounds and swoops Mason through the air as he follows the sound of Lily’s quick little footsteps and make their way to the kitchen.

Louis stops right in the entranceway of the kitchen, frozen to the spot by the sight in front of him, one which he will never get over. There are two things Louis loves the most: kids and his husband. He’s always wanted a family, and since Louis met him, Louis’ been head over heels in love with his husband. So there’s something about combining those two things that always makes Louis’ heart skip a beat or two, no matter how long it’s been since this was his “normal.” He just can’t believe that he was lucky enough to have all these beautiful people in his life.

His husband’s standing behind the kitchen counter, their baby daughter sat on his hip while he crouches down to listen to whatever Lily is saying animatedly. Despite her back being to Louis and Mason, Louis can tell that Lily’s doing her classic thing where she squints one eye to really focus on the story she’s telling, and it makes Louis smile widely as he watches his family, his entire world, right before his eyes.

Harry’s face lights up at whatever Lily’s face, and then contorts into a very serious frown, nodding furiously in agreement with Lily. Finally, he reaches out to offer her a high five, and she jumps with the ferocity of the high five. Kissing her on the top of the head, Harry stands up and notices Louis and Mason for the first time.

He scrunches up his nose in an attempt to contain his fondness for these absolutely ridiculous football nerds he lives with, completely decked out in England football merch with their faces done up in matching face paint.

Louis saunters into the kitchen but stops when he sees his daughter and Harry both giving him matching glares, either hardly able to contain their giggles.

“What did I do this time?” Louis asks, pretending to pout just to earn a laugh from the twins. They love his theatrics, and he loves having an audience that finds him hilarious 10000% of the time, so it's basically the perfect match.

“Lily was just telling me that you told her that she’s a prettier princess than me?” Harry accuses, raising an eyebrow while Lily jumps up and down and squeals out her giggles. She apparently thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world to try to initiate a fight between her fathers.

Louis rolls his eyes, a habit he’s never outgrown, and shakes his head.

It had all started as a completely honest mistake, as honest as you can get when accidentally using your bedroom voice in front of your young children. A few months ago they had all been watching a movie, and Louis genuinely thought the twins were both asleep. And since the baby had come home, Harry and Louis had very few moments where all three of the kids were asleep at a reasonable hour, leaving them some much-desired free time.

So Louis would have had to be a complete chump to not take this opportunity to try to seduce his husband. And it’s not really his fault if he majorly gets off on getting Harry off or that Harry gets off on his praise kink, absolutely falling apart when Louis showers him in pet names.

Unfortunately for them, apparently Lily wasn’t completely asleep, or was just waking up or something, and she perked up when she heard Louis calling Harry “princess.” To this day, neither are sure what else she might have heard, not that she probably understood what was meant behind, “I want to absolutely wreck you, have you crying for me to let you come, princess.”

But at that last word, Lily suddenly sprang to life. She had been on quite a Disney princess kick, and she’d especially been thrilled to play dress up with Harry, doing his hair, nails, and makeup to make him look as pretty as she was in her princess costume. Being the only girl with three boys in the household, she always jumped at any opportunity to indulge in her quote-on-quote "girly" things.

So of course she was absolutely thrilled to hear her Dada calling her Papa a princess, and out of the blue she came hurtling towards them, throwing herself on top of them and screaming about how “my Papa’s a real life PRINCESS!!”

Louis and Harry both panicked, worrying they had completely scarred their daughter for life, but she apparently was completely oblivious to anything dirty they might have been saying. So the natural solution to all of this was just to play it all off as completely innocent, and despite Harry going along with Lily’s princess makeovers before, they upped the antes just to make sure she was always happy and not permanently traumatized or anything.

Back in the current moment, Louis tries not to break into a fond smile. The whole situation was ridiculous, and it had been enough time that he found the humor in it, rather than constantly worrying he fucked up as a parent already. He crouches down to Lily’s height and stage whispers, “I thought that was just between the two of us!!” Lily shrieks and giggles louder, shaking her head and covering her mouth to stifle her laugh.

Hitching Mason higher on his hip, Louis stands back up and cocks his head, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well how about this? I think that Papa’s the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen, but Lily’s the prettiest _queen_ I’ve ever seen.” Louis notices the blush blooming on Harry’s face, so he knows he at least has pleased one of them. Harry's always been a sucker for Louis calling him pretty, and "princess" was a favorite playtime for both of them. 

Lily’s little face turns very serious, and she frowns as she thinks about this. Then her face lights up, and she nods eagerly. “Okay, but if I’m the queen, that means I’m in charge of YOU!” She screams out the last word and turns to point at Harry, clearly feeling very proud of herself for figuring out this loophole.

Harry reaches out and lightly grips her tiny pointer finger in his big hand. “Well, I don’t know if we’ll go that far, but I think we can say that you are definitely the prettiest _here_.” This seems to make Lily happy enough in the moment, and she seems to forget that she had just been tattling on one parent to the other merely moments ago.

Louis places Mason on the ground by his sister as Mason starts squirming to be let down. The two of them run out of the room, probably up to no good somewhere else in the house, but it’s been like an hour since Louis saw his beautiful husband, and that’s way too long, so he figures the kids can’t get into too much trouble in the time it takes for him to snog the breath out of the perfect man in front of him.

He leans in to kiss Harry, but he’s distraught as he watches Harry leaning back, avoiding his touch. Before Louis can open his mouth to complain, he’s cut off by his husband’s infuriatingly soft-looking lips forming words.

“You look, um, very made-up,” Harry smirks at him, gently bouncing the baby still on his hip.

“Why thank you, Harold. It’s all courtesy of your children.” Louis serves him back the same amount of sass, tacking on a complete eye scan of Harry’s lanky body. And boy, is it a sight for sore eyes (sore eyes in that it’s been over an hour, remember?).

Harry’s got his long curls loose and tucked behind his ears, out of his face. He’s got on a red England footie jersey that fits tightly over his broad shoulders and muscular arms, tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves. And then for some reason, probably just to torture Louis, he’s wearing tight blue jeans that are so different from the usual Adidas sweatpants he steals from Louis to wear around the house.

Louis’ snapped out of his reverie, probably for the better since he was quickly spiraling down to the hole of eye fucking which maybe isn’t the best when their kids are somewhere nearby, by Harry’s deep voice.

“Well, they definitely made sure to take some…. artistic liberties, didn’t they?” Harry quirks an eyebrow at Louis, holding back giggles at the ridiculous sight of his husband trying to look tough and manly with smeared paint all over his face that looks exactly like it is: applied by toddlers.

Louis gasps loudly, raising a hand up to his heart to show his absolute outrage at what he’s hearing. Louis, always the drama queen, plays up his shock in mock offense, and says, “Harold, are you insinuating that your children are not artistically talented? I can’t believe the nerve of you. And on this holy day of the World Cup.”

Harry matches his sass to the tea and quickly fires back, “I’m pretty sure that it’s _your_ Tomlinson genes that gave them their artistic talents, along with their two most infuriating qualities: those bright blue eyes I can never say no to and their undying love for England football.”

Harry’s not wrong, really. Since they had met 12 years ago, they always knew that they had wanted a large family, both falling in love with the fact that the other was so good with kids. For their first kid, they had used a surrogate and decided to have this kid be a Tomlinson; hence the blue eyes…. and apparently also the twin genes.

The new baby, Pippa, was genetically a Styles, and at only five months that fact was already clear from her already full-head of brown curls, matching her Papa’s hair. She hadn’t inherited the signature Harry Styles green eyes, but Harry would argue that her hazel eyes were a billion times more captivating than his boring singularly colored eyes.

“I think you mean the two qualities that make you love them the most, Mr. Harry _Tomlinson_ ,” Louis tacks on just for good measure. Before Harry can follow up with a comeback, there’s a ding as the oven timer goes off.

Harry spins around and puts on an oven mitt, twisting his body so that the baby’s far from the oven as Harry reaches in to pull out freshly baked blueberry muffins. Louis sighs and plucks the baby out of Harry’s arm before Harry can drop the baby into the oven, not that Louis could even imagine Harry ever putting a child in danger. Somehow all his clumsiness disappears when he’s with a kid, being able to hold any child with all the delicateness necessary.

“Haz, how many times do I have to tell you not to cook while holding the baby?” Before Harry can respond, Louis hurries out, “I know you’re the best at multitasking, babe, but we have a high chair for a reason.”

Louis turns to Pippa, who’s been staring back at Harry the whole time she lost contact with him, squirming in Louis’ arms to try to get back to Harry. When she finally looks at Louis for the first time, her chubby little baby face morphs into a shocked “oh” as she looks with confusion at the white and red paint on Louis’ face. And then, almost in slow motion, she opens her mouth wider and begins screaming and crying.

“No, baby girl, it’s okay. It’s just me. Dada. It’s okay, Pips.” No matter how much Louis bounces her and tries to talk to her, she just keeps screaming at the weird unknown white and red faced person holding her.

Finally, after Harry’s laughed so hard that he actually started crying a bit, Harry reaches over and takes Pippa out of Louis. She almost instantly quiets down and starts happily gurgling, which only makes Harry laugh harder.

Louis is not amused by this, obviously, and he just stands there with his arms crossed and hip jutted, waiting for Harry to stop laughing at his misfortune. “It’s not that bloody funny,” Louis mutters under his breath, and Harry nods quickly in agreement, trying to stop the bursts of laughter falling from his mouth.

He directs his words to the baby, speaking in a higher pitched voice when he says, “No, it’s not funny, Dada. Right Pippa? We would _never_ laugh at Dada. No matter how silly his face looks covered in ridiculous face paint.”

Louis continues to pout until Harry quiets down enough to lean over and kiss Louis on his neck, finding a spot not covered with face paint. This instantly softens Louis, and he practically melts into Harry’s touch. He turns to capture Harry’s lips with his own, but Harry is already twirling the baby around, his back to Louis. Louis wants to whine until Harry gives him what he wants, but Harry knows him too well.

While he swings Pippa through the air, smiling widely at her delighted shrieks, Harry spares a glance over his shoulder to Louis and says, “The makeup, remember?” Louis sighs, knowing he loves his husband for his meticulously clean ways but wishing right now that he would stop worrying about getting messy and just kiss him.

In retaliation, Louis sneaks up behind Harry and grips his hips, pressing his crotch to Harry’s bum. He makes sure to keep his face away from Harry, to ensure that he doesn’t get makeup anywhere, and whispers, “You don’t like me with all this sticky white stuff on my face?”

Harry laughs, “I feel like you’re trying to make this sensual, but apparently you’ve lost your touch.” Harry knows he’s hit a sensitive spot; Louis’ always prided himself on his ability to make any situation sound dirty.

Louis wants to do something to make Harry eat his words, but then he notices something for the first time. Harry’s not wearing the jersey Louis bought him recently. Rather, he’s wearing Louis’ old jersey, the name “Tomlinson” written across Harry’s upper back.

Louis inhales quickly, suddenly overwhelmed with how much he loves this man in front of him. So he steps back and just admires how good Harry looks in his jersey, revelling in the memory of when he first got it, and Harry rode him so hard while wearing it that Louis blacked out for a moment when he came.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” Louis whispers. Harry turns back around to look at Louis dead on, and his hand slowly creeps up to trace over the little bit of Louis’ chest tattoo which is peeking out from beneath his own jersey. Harry blushes, despite all the years of Louis showering him with love, flushing at Louis’ words of endearment.

Louis feels like he’s about to say something really sappy but suddenly he’s cut off (a common occurrence in the Tomlinson-Styles household with three little kids always around) by Mason and Lily running in chanting, “ENGLAND!! ENGLAND! ENGLAND!!”

They both run straight at Harry, wrapping themselves around his legs in their new favorite way to get either of their parents’ attention. They look up with their wide toddler eyes at Harry, and Lily, the always talkative one, says, “Papa, we made a cheer. Wanna see it?”

Harry flicks his gaze over to Louis who rubs a hand behind his neck, looking a bit embarrassed, a rarity for Louis. “Did you, Lil?” Harry asks her, eyes widening to show how excited he is about this. “Did Dada help you?”

“Yeah!!” Lily screams, and Mason nods eagerly. Harry can’t contain the smirk threatening to take over his face. He looks at Louis as he says, “Oh really? Well, of course I’d absolutely _love_ to see your cheer.”

Lily and Mason detach themselves from Harry’s legs as fast as their uncoordinated toddler bodies can manage, and then they’re stampeding towards Louis, gripping his hands and pulling him back into a more open space.

Lily and Mason recently watched “Bring It On” and since then, Mason especially had been into cheerleading, so Harry’s not necessarily surprised-- but he’s more than thrilled-- to see his babies so excited about a cheer they made up. Plus it doesn’t hurt how mortified his husband looks.

But Louis wouldn’t be the incredible father Harry had always known he would be if he didn’t stand right between their kids and do the moves and chant the words that were so clearly made by 3-year olds.

By the time it’s over, Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, and Pippa in his arms even squealed some gibberish along with them which may have been one of the cutest things Harry’s ever experienced. Before he can overthink how much he’s going to regret getting face paint on himself, Harry steps forward and kisses Louis quickly, sloppy and sudden but still absolutely perfect.

“I love you,” Harry whispers into Louis’ mouth. He opens his eyes and sees the most beautiful sight-- Louis’ wide smile-- and leans in for one more peck before turning to the sink and wiping off any of the makeup that got onto his face.

Louis, who had never bothered doing anything to help around the house before they had kids, gets the twins to help finish cleaning up their toys from the living room while Harry finishes making some game-time food, placing the baby in the highchair like Louis had requested.

In almost no time at all, they hear a knock on the front door followed almost immediately by the sound of the door opening and footsteps entering the house. Harry has long since given up on asking why they even bother knocking if they don’t wait for a response, and he runs his hands through his long curls once before picking up Pippa and heading towards the entryway. He might have a bit of a separation issue when it comes to their youngest, but he can't be blamed for always wanting to hold that little bundle of cuteness.

Harry could hear various child voices, high pitched and excited, speaking over each other, and he could just make out the sound of Louis’ angelic voice over the cacophony of sound the kids were making.

As he turns the corner to get to the front door, he almost collides with Lily, who’s running full-speed with her hand wrapped around the arm of a slightly taller, darker-skinned little girl.

“Lily, slow down!” Harry scolds, but he can’t help smiling at how cute she looks with her face paint, braids, and jersey, so he’s really not mad at all.

“Hi Rene,” he says, looking at the other little girl. “I like your purple jumper.” She grins up at him shyly and mumbles, “Fanks Uncle Harry” before Lily tugs on her arm and pulls her towards the living room.

Stepping into the front hall, two things happen almost simultaneously. First, someone takes Pippa out of his hands and starts cooing about how beautiful she is, and about .005 seconds later, someone’s engulfing him in a tight hug.

As Zayn pulls back from the hug, Harry smiles widely and greets their friends. He keeps one hand clasped on Zayn’s shoulder while he pulls Liam, who has a squealing Pippa in his arms, into a tight side hug.

Harry finally has a moment to take in the entire scene before him, and he notices that Louis’ holding a small baby boy in his arms with a shy Mason hiding behind his legs, his painted face peeking out slightly.

Harry crouches down to his son first, and takes his hand, saying, “What’s up, Mason? It’s just your Uncles Liam and Zayn. Nothing scary here.”

“Except for maybe how disgustingly married they are,” Louis mutters under his breath, earning an elbow to the ribs from Zayn. “Designated driver my ass, Zayn. You used to be fun.” But he’s smiling and clearly not really upset at all.

Mason’s always been shy when he’s first around people, but once he becomes comfortable, he’s the most loving, affectionate kid in the world. He finally comes out from behind Louis and tentatively returns the fist bump Zayn offers him as he crouches down to Mason's height. He glances back up to his parents for their approval before lunging forward and wrapping his pudgy little arms around Zayn’s neck. Zayn picks him up, and Liam reaches out to ruffle his hair, making Mason blush.

Harry turns his attention to the little boy in Louis’ arms. “Hello Mr. Cameron,” he says, pulling a funny face at the end. The little boy giggles and hides his face in Louis’ neck, looking quickly at Harry every few seconds to see him making a new face and then giggling and returning to his hiding place against Louis’ neck. Louis rubs his back and laughs along with him, feeling entirely too endeared by his dorky husband and how cute he is around kids.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries (“How are you?” “It’s been too long!” “We should do this more often” etc.), they all head into the living room where Lily and Rene are already seated on the floor.

Rene listens attentively as Lily chatters on about how “my Dada does the best braids in the WHOLE WORLD,” which makes Louis, Mr. Cool and Collected, duck his head in pride and a tinge of embarassment. Mason scurries over to join their little group, and soon Cameron’s squirming in Louis’ arms until he sets him down and wobbles over to the other kids on his unsteady one-year old legs.

Mason, always the serious one, scoots over to make another spot for Cameron, but Cameron plops himself down in Mason’s lap. Harry can’t help the barking laugh that escapes when he sees the surprise on Mason’s face, which is soon replaced by a wide smile.

“Can I get you lads anything to drink?” Harry asks, attention back on Liam and Zayn.

Louis interjects though, “Well, Zayn here is ‘designated driver,’” he says with big air quotes. “Betta just get him a cuppa Boring Old Man juice.”

“What are you even going on about?” Harry teases, enjoying the flustered look Louis gives him. Harry quickly reaches out his pointer finger and lays it across Louis’ lips to silence him while Harry turns back to their guests, waiting for drink requests.

“A beer would be great,” Liam says, cracking up as Harry yelps at the sudden feeling of Louis biting his finger. Harry cradles his bitten finger, not really because of the pain but because he always has and always will enjoy having Louis’ full attention on him, so he’s definitely milking this moment.

“Whaddya reckon, Tommo? Wanna go drink for drink with me?” Liam asks. Harry and Zayn roll their eyes at each other, both knowing that Louis could outdrink Liam any day of the week and that Zayn will basically end up taking home three kids at the end of this.

Zayn and Liam actually do have two kids: four-year old Rene who they adopted from Colombia and one-year old Cameron who they adopted from the Philippines. Harry occasionally felt inadequate when he would look at their family, because they are the most beautiful, fashionable family he had ever seen. But then Harry would look at his own family and realize that his family is in fact the best family out there, and he couldn’t be happier with how his life turned out.

Louis hops up and heads towards the kitchen. “So that’s a beer for me, a beer for Payno, nothing for Zayn…. my former best friend” --- “goddamn it, stop being such a drama queen, Lou,” Zayn mumbles under his breath --- “and what about you, baby?” Louis asks, his voice going much softer at the last bit.

Harry blushes as he catches Liam and Zayn sharing a knowing look at what they dubbed years ago “Louis’ Harry voice” which Louis apparently reserves for talking to or about Harry, not that Harry really minds at all.

“I’ll have a beer, too,” Harry says, returning the smile Louis gives him. Once Louis returns with three beers in hand and a bottle opener, they get comfortable to watch the game.

Harry’s already placed out the various snacking foods, a mixture of traditional football viewing snacks and some recipes he had just been wanting to try recently, out on the coffee table in front of them, and the kids have definitely made themselves comfortable with grabbing handfuls of everything.

Liam, who had been holding Pippa the whole time and had successfully kept her laughing almost the entire time she was in his arms, hands her back to Harry, both men knowing fully well that in just a couple minutes Louis will be so into the game and so raucous that he’ll be much too excitable to want to hold a baby.

Lily moves to sit on the couch, but Harry stops her. “Sorry, honey. You can’t sit on the couch with all that face paint.” She pouts and stomps her little foot.

“Then why does Dada get to?” she whines.

“Yeah, Uncle Harry, why does _Daddy_ get to sit on the couch?” Liam asks, both him and Zayn barely managing to muffle their laughs.

“Oi, why don’t you kindly fuck off please, Li?” Louis snaps, making all the kids giggle.

“ **LEWIS**!” Harry exclaims, slapping Louis’ arm lightly. “Not in front of the children!!”

“At least I said please. I was giving them a great example of good manners,” Louis retorts with an eye roll. “He was asking for it any way. You should be telling _him_ ‘not in front of the kids’ then too!”

Harry turns fully to Zayn, his back to Louis. “Looks like we’re both coming out of this game with one more child than we started it with,” Harry tells him, and they both shake their heads in mock disappointment at their husbands.

“Dada,” Mason says, tugging on Louis’ shirt sleeve. “What did Uncle Liam say that made you angery? What’s ‘not in front of the kids’?” He adorably scrunches up his face as he repeats Louis' exact words, Louis sighing with relief that he didn't repeat anything he'd just said. The other three men lean back into the couch, watching and waiting to see how Louis’ going to explain this one to his three-year old.

“You’ve just made it so much worse for yourself, mate,” Liam chuckles. “Should’ve just let me have that one. They wouldn’t've noticed.”

Louis sends his best glare to Liam before turning back to Mason and scooping him up into his lap. He glances at Harry a few times, his eyes asking for help, but Harry seems much too amused about this whole thing and clearly is waiting to see how Louis come up with an appropriate explanation.

It’s not like Louis’ going to very well tell his baby kids, “Well, your Uncle Liam here was referring to the many times he and your Uncle Zayn heard me and Papa having loud, rough sex, and also by the way, PS your Papa likes to call me Daddy while I fuck him, and that really gets me off, too.”

Harry’s just as complicit in this, being the one who so loudly screams during sex-- not that Louis would have it any other way-- but he looks much too smug about letting Louis handle this one. Oh well, probably is fair since Louis was the one who made this into a big deal.

“Well, love,” Louis says, trying to stall while he comes up with a reasonable response. “I just got upset because Uncle Liam is cheering for Argentina, not England.” Louis’ pretty proud of that comeback, particularly so when Mason gasps and covers his mouth with both hands, apparently completely scandalized by that thought. Louis’ glad this is as close to scandalizing his three-year old he is going to get today. Close call.

Mason turns to Liam and sticks out his tongue, a trick he definitely learned from Louis, which brings him another sense of pride. Louis wants to laugh at his cheekiness, but he figures he’s probably already in enough trouble with Harry and shouldn’t push it. So he tells him, “Mason, that’s not very nice. Here, love. I think we both owe your Uncle Liam an apology.”

Louis turns to Liam and says very formally, “I am so sorry for using naughty words,” and then turns to Mason and waits for his apology. He glances at Louis and turns to Liam only after he nods to encourage Mason. “Sorry, Uncle LiLi,” he mumbles, switching into the nickname he had dubbed Liam when the twins were just learning how to talk.

Liam smiles widely and opens his arms for him to run into and hug. “It’s okay, Mason. It’s not your fault your Dad’s not housetrained.” This makes Mason laugh as he apparently betrays Louis and turns onto Liam’s side, leaving Louis feeling hurt with the fresh betrayal. Louis tries to throw a pillow at Liam, but he stops when he remembers that all the kids are watching him and he’s setting a bad example.

“And remember, Mason, you can’t repeat any of the bad words you hear Dada saying until you’re how many years old?” Louis asks.

“FIRTEEN!!” Lily squeals from where she’s still standing near Harry, clapping her hands in glee like this is the most exciting thing she’s ever heard.

Liam raises an eyebrow at Louis. “Oh? You already had to make a rule about that?” he teases.

Louis shrugs. “It’s actually young Harold here’s fault. Lily started saying the s-word after she kept hearing Haz swear whenever he’d drop something, which is quite frequent with those Bambi limbs of his.” This makes the four men laugh, but the laughter is cut off by Mason jumping up and yelling in his loudest voice of the entire time, “IT’S FIVE!!!!”

Louis glances at the clock and sees that his son, is in fact, correct, meaning that the game is starting right this moment. “Nice work, love,” he says as he reaches for the remote. He makes a mental note to give Mason an extra cookie next time because that’s damn impressive that he remembered what time the game was at and was able to tell from the clock. Like Louis’ said before, he’s raising a genius.

They all settle in to watch the game; the three older kids supposedly sitting (which actually entails mostly jumping up and down or running to the coffee table for more snacks) on the carpet, the one-year old crawling alongside them in an attempt to keep up, and the youngest baby securely falling asleep in Harry’s arms.

Liam and Zayn lean into each other, and Zayn throws an arm around Liam who easily snuggles in closer to him, the picture of happily married. Throughout the game Liam gives Zayn the occasional sip of his beer, and Zayn feeds Liam bites of food while they enjoy their little bubble of love, savoring the moments their kids are occupied and not needing them for anything.

In one of the rare moments where his sole attention isn’t on Harry, Louis sits on the edge of the couch, the excitement of the game apparently too much for him to recline. But without even thinking, Louis searches out Harry, pressing their thighs together with how close they sit and keeping a firm grip on Harry’s upper thigh the entirety of the game.

Harry finds himself watching Louis more consistently than he actually watches the game. Harry loves football, but most of his love for it comes from the happiness it so clearly brings Louis. Although Harry had teased him about it earlier, Harry truly loves the way the World Cup brings out this child-like excitement within his husband. Louis’ always so determined to protect, to provide, to take care of his family, so it’s nice to see him letting loose and enjoying this moment just for his own sake.

The game speeds by much too fast for everyone’s liking, with only a couple mishaps of the kids jumping on the couch after one particularly exciting goal for England.

Harry thinks his heart might explode out of his chest at the way he watches Mason taking care of Cameron the whole game; always holding his hand or letting him sit in his lap. And he can’t help smiling fondly as he watches Lily and Rene hold hands for an hour, feeling so glad that his kids love his best friends' kids as much as he does.

Luckily for everyone, Louis and Liam are so distracted by the game that they only drink three beers each. The kids, though, gorge themselves on snacks and are so buzzed on their sugar highs that they’re all running and screaming around the room by the time the game reaches its final minutes.

When the timer counts down from three… two… one, they all erupt in ecstatic cheers at England’s victory. Louis makes sure to smear his face paint all over Mason and Lily’s own made up faces, cracking up at their shrieks and giggles. And despite Harry’s rule of not getting the face paint on him, Louis still manages to lean in and steal a quick peck on the lips from Harry, the baby still asleep in his lap.

Noting the animated discussion Harry has quickly fallen into with Liam, Louis picks up Pippa, cradling her against his chest, and quietly sneaks out of the room. He savors this time with Pippa since Harry is so reluctant to ever let her down. He absolutely loves watching Harry take care of their baby-- his baby looking after their baby-- but sometimes he thinks Harry needs a break from being a full-time parent to an infant, and Louis hopes this allows Harry to relax a little bit and catch up with old friends.

He still feels the adrenaline pumping through his veins, but he’s extraordinarily gentle as he lays Pipp down in her crib, making sure she is all set up for the night and that the baby monitor is turned on. Not wanting to wake her or to get her dirty, he touches his fingertips to his mouth and places his hand on the baby’s head, transferring a kiss to her.

When he returns to the main room, Louis notices how his two children are much more rambunctious and excited than Zayn and Liam’s two children, which is probably thanks to those damn Tomlinson genes as well. Apparently the universe might implode if there’s even one quiet Tomlinson out there.

Louis looks over to see Rene stifle a yawn every few minutes and Cameron’s eyes keep drifting closed from where he’s cuddled into Zayn’s lap. Louis glances at the clock and notes that it is probably all the kids’ bedtime, but he’s just happy his kids are so into the football game that he’ll let them stay up a little later than usual.

Louis sits back down on the couch, practically in Harry’s lap. He throws one leg over Harry’s thighs and buries a hand in Harry’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Harry smiles now that he’s finally gotten Louis’ full attention after all this time. Even though Louis starts conversing with Zayn, every time Harry glances over to him, Louis’ watching him, even if he pretends to be looking somewhere else each time Harry catches him.

After a bit more light-hearted banter, Liam and Zayn pick up their two children, who both basically fall asleep immediately the moment they’re held by their parents, and give their thanks to the hosts, promising to be back over soon but needing to head out now and get the little ones to bed.

Lily and Mason both start screaming when they see their friends are leaving, which only serves to get Cameron all worked up until he starts crying as well. Lily even manages to run out the front door and almost climbs into their car, she’s so determined to keep the playdate going forever. Louis has to chase after her and grab her before she runs into the street, waving after the car as they pull away into the night.

When Louis picks her up and takes her inside, Lily’s face crumples and she looks to be on the verge of a tantrum. Luckily she gets quickly distracted from her disappointment by Mason, who somehow managed to climb onto the couch and start jumping without anyone noticing in all the commotion of getting the Malik-Payne family out the door.

Lily squiggles out of Louis’ arms and runs over to join her brother on their makeshift trampoline. Louis, knowing how much time and money Harry put into finding them the perfect living room couch, scoops one squiggling, overly-sugared up three-year old in each arm, blowing raspberries on their cheeks until their screams of disappointment from being removed from the couch turn into screams of joy and giggles.

Harry sends him an apologetic smile as he sees Louis struggling to keep a hold on both of their crazy toddlers, and even just that simple act has Louis’ heart melting. He saunters over to his husband and places a quick peck on his lips, leaning away just as Harry starts to lean into the kiss, knowing that once they start they’re terrible at stopping, and this probably is most definitely not the ideal make-out situation what with Louis still holding their children.

“How about I get the kids all ready for bed while you finish cleaning up in here, love?” Louis asks softly. There’s been one too many incidents for both men to know that nothing good can come from Louis in the kitchen.

Harry smiles widely before nodding and biting his bottom lip in classic Harry fashion. He quickly leans in for one last peck on the lips and then turns his attention to his children, kissing both of their foreheads.

“G’night, loves,” he murmurs just for them. “Don’t give your Dada too much trouble,” he tacks on with a wink to Louis who can’t hide the fond smile that breaks across his face. Neither of the kids seem too keen on leaving Harry, but they’re finally starting to feel the exhaustion of the day and no longer seem to have enough energy to fight this separation.

Still carrying them despite the growing ache in both arms, Louis takes them upstairs and straight into the bathroom. He hums softly while setting the sleepy toddlers onto the floor where they both slouch against each other, Lily yawning loudly before she rests her head on Mason’s shoulder, both kids fighting to keep their eyes open.

Louis feels his heart swell with love for his children and takes a moment to just look at how fucking adorable they are, sitting all cuddled up and sleepy. He really is a humble man, but he could brag for hours and hours on end about how incredible his children are.

Louis gets the water running, checking frequently to ensure it doesn’t get too hot, and when he’s deemed the bath ready, he makes quick work of undressing the toddlers and placing them into the bath.

He washes Mason first, silently thanking any of the gods listening that he’s apparently too worn out to fight Louis scrubbing the face paint off like he normally would be. Louis has to keep a constant eye on Lily while he suds down Mason as she seems to be on the verge of falling asleep in the bathtub.

At one point, Louis is so concentrated on shampooing Mason without any getting in his eyes that he doesn’t notice as Lily actually does fall asleep, falling over in the tub and splashing all of them with a wave of water as she bursts awake.

Louis, despite being the only adult and not toddler in the room, thinks he might throw a tantrum if Lily starts crying again, but luckily she just sits up quickly and blinks a few times before yawning once more, making Louis want to cry once more but this time because she’s just so cute, such a tiny little human.

Soaking wet now, Louis wipes his face with his forearm, trying to prevent the smeared face paint and soap from getting in his eyes. He also removes his shirt since it’s completely soaked, which ends up giving him more mobility to lean into the tub and wash his kids.

After finally getting them both washed up, Louis carefully lifts their dripping, sleepy bodies from the tub, wrapping them in fluffy towels. Not for the first time, he thinks his mom must have been an actual angel to handle two sets of twins, because looking after two kids at the same time is probably the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He lifts Lily up, who instantly rests her head on his shoulder and yawns for the millionth time, and takes Mason’s hand, leading them to their shared bedroom. He feels a swell of pride at how smart and independent Mason is, putting on his pajamas by himself while Louis gets the barely awake Lily into her own.

The moment he lays Lily down into her bed, she’s out like a light, snoring slightly. He smiles down at her, thinking how lucky he is to have such a beautiful family. Then he quietly walks over to the other side of the room and sits next to Mason on his bed.

They open up one of Mason’s current favorite books, and Louis reads it softly to him, Mason following along word-by-word with his pudgy little finger. By the end of the story, Mason’s also struggling to stay awake, blinking his eyes wide as he catches himself drifting off.

Louis tucks him into bed and turns off the bedside lamp. He kisses Mason’s forehead and whispers, “Love you, little man.” A muffled little voice responds, “Love you, Dada,” before Mason rolls over and falls asleep almost immediately. Hmm, maybe they should have the Malik-Paynes over every night if it wears out their kids and gets them to sleep so quickly.

Stifling a yawn of his own, Louis heads out of their room. He rubs his eyes, forgetting that there is now not only face paint but also soap and water all over him at this point. He grimaces as the makeup comes off on his hands, but his grimace quickly turns into a grin when he enters the bedroom.

Harry’s sitting on the bed, flipping through random TV channels, and he’s already taken off his ridiculously tight jeans, lounging in only his pants and Louis’ old jersey. As Louis watches from the doorway, Harry raises a bottle of beer to his lips, taking a sip as he continues looking at the television screen, seemingly oblivious to Louis’ staring.

Louis can’t help the way his breath hitches as he watches Harry’s lips wrap around the head of the bottle and the way Harry’s throat bobs as he swallows. Louis subconsciously licks his lips, suddenly finding himself physically incapable of being so far away from his beautiful husband.

He crawls onto the bed and easily, after years of practice, fits himself into Harry’s lap, straddling Harry’s lean thighs with his thick ones. Harry tries to act like he’s totally unfazed, shifting so he can see the screen over Louis’ shoulder and not sparing him a glance. But Louis can see the way Harry scrunches up his nose, trying his best to maintain a poker face when they both know all he really wants to do is smile widely, since they both know he loves everything Louis does.

“The twins are fast asleep,” Louis breathes out, leaning in so that the words skate over Harry’s neck, making Harry shiver slightly. “Guess we have the house to ourselves, baby,” Louis continues, trying for his best slow, sensual tone. He nips lightly at Harry’s ear, which apparently is literally all it takes for Harry to break his resolve and toss the remote aside as he grips onto Louis’ hips.

Louis smirks, loving how easy his husband is for him, but as he leans in to suck a mark at the juncture between Harry’s neck and shoulder, one of his favorite spots, Harry leans away, preventing Louis’ touch.

Louis frowns and looks at Harry, confused by this move. Harry smiles at him, though, which makes Louis begin to smile too, unable to resist those dimples.

“You’re still covered in paint, honey,” Harry points out, drawing a finger across Louis’ cheekbone, turning to show Louis the face paint that wiped off at his touch.

“Harrehhhhhhhhh,” Louis whines, jutting out his bottom lip while simultaneously rolling his hips down in Harry’s lap. Over the years he’s become very well-versed in getting Harry’s resolve to crack, and Louis doesn’t see why some face paint should stop them when they finally have all three kids asleep for the first time in seemingly forever.

Somehow Harry’s grin widens even more, and he chuckles softly, his thumbs drawing circles along Louis’ waist. He tilts his head, pretending to be in deep thought. Louis continues rocking down into Harry’s lap, feeling them both starting to harden.

In his final, most deadly move, Louis trails one hand up Harry’s side, under the jersey, until he brushes across one of Harry’s nipples, pinching lightly. Harry gasps and bucks up against Louis, all pretenses of being unfazed completely abandoned.

“If it’s such a bother to you,” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, moving his hand over to play with Harry’s other main nipple, “I guess I’ll go take a shower.” He gives Harry’s nipple one last, harder pinch, and with that, Louis pushes off of the bed and starts walking towards their master bathroom.

He makes sure to swing his hips a little extra, knowing what this view must be doing to Harry, and just as he makes it to the bathroom door, he glances back over his shoulder as if this is all just a sudden after thought. “It’s quite a large shower, love. Probably room for two.”

He shrugs as if he isn’t thinking about all the incredible times they’ve had mind-blowing sex in that very shower-- one pressing the other up against the tiled walls, fucking them hard, or one on his knees, working his mouth over the other until they’re practically crying and screaming out the other’s name as they come. Nope, he definitely was not thinking about that at all.

Not sparing a glance back, although he really would like to see Harry’s reaction, Louis quickly removes his pants and socks, effectively rendering him completely nude. He turns on the shower, electing to leave the fan off for the added effect of the steamy mirrors that will create, and steps into the warm water.

It takes only a few minutes for Harry to join him, coyly stepping into the shower just as Louis’ managing to scrub off the remainder of face paint. Harry steps under the water, never breaking eye contact from Louis since he stepped in, running his hands through his long hair a few times.

Louis just stares in complete mesmerization. He decided years ago that he would never be over Harry’s beauty, and this was just one of the many times when he was overwhelmed with how breathtakingly gorgeous his husband.

Louis reaches up and takes Harry’s hands, lacing his fingers through Harry’s larger ones and brings them up to the top of Harry’s head. He slowly begins massaging Harry’s scalp while Harry leans back into the touch, squeezing Louis’ hands tightly.

After a few minutes, Louis releases their hands and steps back, turning to grab the shampoo. One of his all time favorite activities is washing Harry’s hair, something so simple and everyday yet always feels so intimate and sensual when it’s between them.

Harry, though, apparently has other plans, as he steps behind Louis and wraps his arms around him, bringing Louis’ back to his front.

Harry places one hand on Louis’ waist while the other hand traces random lines along Louis’ stomach, achingly slowly moving down until his fingers lightly tangle in the top of Louis’ pubic hair. Harry kisses along the back of Louis’ neck, reveling in the shaky breathes Louis takes and the occasional moan falling from Louis’ lips.

Harry continues his trail of kisses along Louis’ neck and onto his shoulders, continuing to tug lightly at Louis’ pubic hair but seemingly refusing to move his hand any lower. Louis, though, grinds back against Harry, pressing his glorious backside against Harry’s crotch. They both moan as Harry’s hardening cock brushes against Louis’ crack, and that’s all the incentive Louis needs before he whirls around, grabbing either side of Harry’s face with his hands and bringing their lips together.

They kiss heatedly, both feeling a sort of desperation they haven’t been able to indulge in awhile while they work 25/8 as parents to three young children. Their hands run across each others’ bodies as if they haven’t seen each other in months, both eagerly grabbing and stroking the bodies of their lover. Louis’ hands eventually wander up to their favorite place, nestled deeply in Harry’s hair, and he tugs a couple times just for good measure, causing Harry to lean back and moan obscenely.

Louis takes this opportunity to begin kissing and sucking along Harry’s collarbones, making sure to leave a mark by both of the swallow tattoos. He alternates between pulling on Harry’s hair and gently massaging his scalp, keeping him guessing what will come next. Harry grips Louis’ hips tightly, only able to hold on tightly as Louis works his mouth across Harry’s sensitive skin.

Louis slowly backs Harry up against the tiled wall, keeping his mouth attached to Harry’s body while he walks him backwards. When Harry’s back collides with the cool wall, he startles forward slightly at the cold shock, inadvertently but effectively thrusting their hard cocks together. Louis groans against Harry’s heated skin, and Harry whimpers loudly, trying to move his hand between their bodies to grip them both.

But Louis is not having that. He backs up suddenly, breathing heavily, blue eyes dark with lust as he gazes hungrily all over Harry’s naked body. Harry blushes under his intense scrutiny, finding that he’ll never not find it incredibly arousing how Louis looks at him as if he’s the most desirable thing in the whole world.

Finally after a few moments and only once Harry starts squirming slightly, needing Louis’ touch again, Louis says in an already husky, fucked-out voice, “Turn around for me, baby.”

Harry, of course, does what he’s told, turning to face the wall, leaning forward slightly and placing both forearms against the tiles while sticking out his bum slightly. He’s not entirely sure what Louis has in mind but he feels pretty confident that his arse will be involved.

When he hears the unmistakable sound of Louis working his hand over his own cock, Harry has to resist every impulse within him that tells him to turn and watch. He knows that when Louis tells him to do something, he’s expected to follow the command completely. Louis hasn’t steered him wrong yet in their 12 years together, so Harry pushes down the desire to turn and watch his beautiful husband, knowing that when Louis’ attention turns to him it will have been worth it.

He tries to focus on the trail of water dripping down his spine, the little droplets falling from his hair down his chest, the occasional stream of water that falls off the tip of his nose, anything to distract him from the way his thighs are already shaking in anticipation or that he wants Louis to touch him so badly he can barely think straight.

Finally after what feels like ages but is realistically probably only a couple minutes, he feels Louis’ breath against him, but not where he would have expected it against the back of his neck. Somehow Louis managed to move so silently that Harry completely missed him dropping to his knees behind Harry, only noticing when Louis takes a deep breath and exhales right against Harry’s crack.

Just this simple gesture has Harry moaning and arching his back, shoving his arse back in the direction he had felt Louis. Unfortunately, he makes contact with nothing but the air, and he frowns, unsure why he still is being deprived of Louis’ touch.

But just as he’s about to open his mouth to complain that Louis better get on with it, he feels Louis grip the outside of his thighs, bracketing Harry’s muscular legs with his small, soft hands. Harry gasps as he feels Louis press a kiss on the inside of his knee, moving to kiss the same spot on his other leg. Louis’ mouth is light and teasing, not staying long enough to leave a mark but nonetheless marking his path up by the way Harry swears he can still feel a tingle each place Louis lays his mouth.

Louis’ gripping his legs tightly, making it so that Harry can’t move much, only able to fist his hands in his own hair as he feels heat in his gut building as Louis moves closer and closer to the spot Harry so wants him.

Suddenly, Louis latches on to a spot right below Harry’s right arsecheek, biting slightly and sucking at the sensitive skin there. As he keeps his mouth there, he runs his hands up until they both rest on Harry’s arse. He tentatively kneads his fingers in there, mostly just for his own pleasure, marvelling how the squats Harry has been doing are really paying off.

Then, without further teasing or ministrations, he uses his thumbs to pull Harry apart and leans in, licking his way up from Harry’s balls to his hole. Harry moans loudly, pulling his hair so hard he has his entire body arching up and back into Louis’ mouth. “ _Louis_ ,” he gasps out, groaning and panting as he feels the effects of Louis’ tongue flow through his entire body. Heat curls in his gut and loins, and he pushes back to chase that feeling.

Louis licks around Harry’s rim, randomly switching things up. He alternates between pressing kisses and sucking around the rim with both long and short licks all over. Harry feels thankful for Louis’ strong grip on his arse and hips, his legs shaking so much that he feels as if he would fall over if it weren’t for Louis holding him in place.

Louis sets a relentless pace, tongue flicking along Harry’s hole, only on occasion dipping into Harry’s tightness quickly before Louis’ back to sucking and nibbling at Harry’s hole. Harry knows that he thinks this every time Louis’ eating him out, but this time he really does swear that he’s never been this hard before, never wanted anything as much as he wants Louis’ tongue inside him.

Louis’ mouth is truly the number one biggest wonder of the world, and if it were up to Harry, his tongue would be worshipped worldwide. But Harry’s the only one who gets to experience Louis’ mouth, the only one Louis graces with his perfect tongue.

Harry reaches down to grab his hard length, immediately tugging quickly, his wrist snapping along as he matches the flicks of Louis’ tongue with his own hand. Harry vaguely notices that he’s mumbling out a stream of _LouisLouisLouisLouisLouis_ but he doesn’t mind. He knows that Louis gets off on Harry’s desperation for him, and Harry really hopes Louis is feeling even a fraction of what Harry is right now.

“So beautiful,” Louis murmurs, only slightly removing his mouth from Harry’s hole so that his words ghost over the twitching muscle, making Harry moan as he thinks about how Louis literally has a front row view to see him clenching around nothing, desperately seeking to be filled with something. Harry keeps stroking himself, feeling bursts of heat radiating through his body.

“Ride my tongue, baby,” Louis tells Harry, adding a quick kiss to Harry’s lower back.

“Fuck,” Harry moans out, unable to really think of anything else. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, really want you to,” Louis responds, and without waiting any longer, he leans back in, sucking relentlessly along Harry’s rim until he loosens up soon and Louis is able to plunge his tongue almost all the way inside Harry.

Harry shoves his face into his arms, pressing his cheek against the cool tile wall while biting his bicep, attempting to cover up the scream he lets out. After recovering from the initial immense intensity of Louis’ tongue being inside him, Harry starts rocking back slightly, grinding his arse back on Louis’ face.

Louis hums in encouragement, sending vibrations through Harry’s body which only make him want to grind back harder, chasing that feeling. Louis’ grip moves entirely to Harry’s hips and he grabs on tightly, moving Harry’s hips harder and quicker, fucking his tongue in and out of Harry at a punishing speed.

Harry can’t catch his breath; he’s moaning and gasping at such a frequent pace, and he knows he’s being too loud considering their kids are asleep in the same house, but what’s the point of being a multimillionaire if you don’t get a house big enough to fuck your husband without waking your kids?

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” Harry grunts out, continuing to thrust his hips back against Louis’ mouth. Louis reaches around Harry and bats Harry’s hand away, replacing its position on Harry’s cock with his own. He begins to jerk Harry off while continuing to fuck him with his tongue, and Harry’s body feels so fucking incredible, tingles and heat flying throughout him as he feels his orgasm building.

On one especially devastating flick of Louis’ wrist, Harry screams out, coming hard against the shower wall, staining the dark tiles with his cum. Louis languidly works him through his orgasm, pressing his cheek against Harry’s arse cheeks while Harry shakes through his aftershocks.

Louis gently kisses Harry’s rim, causing Harry to gasp with the overstimulation, before Louis’ standing up, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and pressing his face into Harry’s curls. Harry slouches, leaning back against his husband, allowing Louis to support a lot of his weight as they both try to gain control of their panting.

“That was amazing,” Harry murmurs, laying his head back against Louis’ shoulder and rolling it over to look at Louis’ face. Louis looks back at him lovingly and tilts Harry’s chin up slightly so that they can connect their lips easily. Harry moans lightly when he tastes himself on Louis’ lips, loving the reminder that Louis’ claimed him as his own.

This thought brings Harry back to the present moment as he remembers that Louis hasn’t gotten off yet. It’s a testament of how in-sync and connected they are that just as Harry realizes this, Louis also seemingly remembers, pressing slightly against Harry, his hard dick grinding against Harry’s overheated skin.

Harry breaks away from the kiss reluctantly, turning around so that he’s facing Louis full on now. Sometimes he looks at Louis and can’t breathe, completely overcome with his beauty-- the definition of his cheekbones, his sharp jawline, his soft lips looking especially red and swollen from their previous activities. He reaches out and strokes his thumb across Louis’ cheek, reminding himself that this is real, this is his life. This beautiful man is his husband who he has three beautiful children with.

Louis leans into Harry’s touch, turning his face slightly so he can kiss the inside of Harry’s wrist. “Love you,” Louis murmurs, pressing the words into Harry’s skin.

“I love you so so much, Lou,” Harry breathes out before reaching down and grabbing Louis’ wrist, yanking him forward until their chests are flush to flush. Harry quickly begins sucking along Louis’ neck, one hand working its way into the wet hair at the base of Louis’ neck while the other hand snakes down and wraps around Louis’ erection.

Louis gasps at that touch and fucks forward into Harry’s awaiting fist. “Not gonna last long,” Louis pants, already quickly fucking into the tight heat of Harry’s fist as he begins chasing his orgasm.

Harry, suddenly feeling inspired, drops to the ground, continuing to jerk Louis as he settles onto his knees, big green eyes staring up at Louis expectantly. Harry kisses the inside of Louis’ thighs as he feels Louis’ hands settle into his hair, quiet little _ngh_ ’s falling sporadically from Louis’ mouth. Harry flicks his tongue out to play with Louis’ balls, earning him a sharp tug of his hair in appreciation.

Harry reluctantly removes his mouth from Louis’ balls, looking up at him seductively through his eyelashes. “Come on my face,” he whimpers out. “Please.”

Louis groans and throws his head back, unable to look at Harry on his knees before him, looking so fucking expectant and needy. Louis starts really snapping his hips forward, fucking Harry’s hand in the exact way he would be fucking Harry’s ass if he wasn’t so desperate to come as soon as possible.

Harry watches Louis’ cock with his mouth hanging slightly open, apparently in complete awe of the sight before his eyes. He glances back up at Louis, and ensuring that Louis’ watching him, he leans forward and begins laying little licks along Louis’ shaft, moving up until he’s lapping around the head of Louis’ cock.

Seeing Harry like that, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, on his knees before Louis is all it takes for Louis to start spilling out over Harry’s hand. The first little bit lands on Harry’s lips as he moves back slightly, taking his mouth away from Louis’ cock so that he can get the cum all over his face.

Louis feels like his orgasm lasts forever, and he’s not surprised, but definitely just as delighted, that Harry doesn’t move away the entire time, letting Louis cover his face in his jizz. When Louis comes down from the high of orgasm, he gasps slightly at the sight before him. Harry looks so fucking pretty with cum dripping down his face, looking up expectantly at Louis.

Louis reaches down and wipes some of the cum off his face. He takes Harry’s hand and helps him stand up, eye contact never breaking as Louis washes off the remaining jizz. Harry tilts his head slightly, giving Louis a loopy grin which makes Louis giggle slightly, squinting because he’s grinning so wide his eyes have crinkled so intensely.

They finish up the shower quickly, hurrying through the rest of their washing considering that they’d wasted enough water at this point. They settle into a comfortable, post-orgasmic silence, neither talking but neither feeling the need to talk. They are just content being with each other.

As they dry themselves off in front of their respective sinks, Louis can’t help finding his eyes wandering across the mirror to watch Harry. Everything Harry does is absolute perfection to Louis, and even the act of wringing his hair out into a towel just looks so breathtakingly beautiful when Harry does it.

Harry notices Louis watching him, making eye contact in the mirror before he begins to blush and ducks his head, never quite having gotten used to the intensity and love behind Louis’ gaze. Louis ducks his own head down, shaking his head and grinning widely at just the thought that he gets this cute man all to himself.

When Louis looks back up, Harry’s no longer standing next to him. Louis watches in the mirror as Harry walks further into their bathroom and drops his towel into the laundry basket. His back is still turned to Louis and the mirror, so his ass is on full display and Louis smirks when he sees a few bruises along Harry’s thighs.

Harry walks over and grabs his pink silk robe, tying it tightly around his waist. He grabs the matching blue one hung next to it and practically skips over to Louis. Louis rolls his eyes, both men knowing entirely well how this whole thing is going to go.

“Louuuuu,” Harry purrs out, batting his eyelashes and jutting out his bottom lip. Louis pops a hip, feigning disinterest. “Will you put it on, please?? Just for me?” Louis rolls his eyes one more time, sighing, as he reaches out and snatches the blue robe from Harry’s hands.

They both know that Louis doesn’t really understand the point of silk robes-- claiming they cling to him in weird places, but he would do anything for Harry. And if Harry wants him to wear a matching silk robe, goddamn it, Louis is going to wear a matching silk robe.

He drops his towel onto the floor and shoulders on the robe, not really paying attention to Harry picking up Louis’ towel and placing it in the laundry bin. Louis twirls around and places his hands on his hips. “Well? Happy?” he says with only a hint of annoyance, unable to keep the fond from creeping into his voice. He is so far gone for Harry, he really was not upset at all about feeling like he looked ridiculous in the robe because if it made Harry happy, of course he was going to do it.

Harry strokes his chin, looking contemplative before stepping forward and tugging the robe slightly askew, Louis’ _It Is What It Is_ tattoo and defined collarbones peeking out. Harry leans forward and slowly traces his tongue across the tattoo, sucking right below Louis’ collarbone when he comes to the end. He leans back and looks over the finished product, nodding his approval. “Very happy.”

Louis takes Harry's hand in his own, kissing along Harry’s knuckles while he tries to hide the outrageous smile threatening to take over his face. “Good, me too. So so very happy,” Louis adds. They stare into each others’ eyes, neither wanting to leave this moment where they are able to just stay and bask in their love for each other.

The silence is broken by Louis saying in the haughtiest, most posh accent he can muster up, “Well, Mr. Tomlinson, it appears as though we still have the room to ourselves. Shall we take advantage of this?” He pulls Harry into his chest, Harry grunting slightly when he collides with Louis in a much less graceful interpretation of what Louis had imagined that situation happening but in a very classic clumsy Harry way.

“Well, Mr. Styles,” Harry breathes out, giggling as Louis digs his fingers into Harry’s sides at the sound of that name, both men having quite a kink for long-term commitment. “I do think that we shall,” Harry says, trying to reciprocate Louis’ serious, fancy accent but giggling too much to maintain the facade.

Louis intertwines their fingers and leads them back into the bedroom, guiding Harry to the bed. He gently lays Harry down on the bed, standing at the edge and simply looking for a moment. He reaches forward and undoes the knot holding Harry’s robe up, watching with bated breath as the silk slides down Harry’s smooth skin, revealing his tattoo-covered chest and already hardening dick.

Louis climbs onto the bed, crawling over Harry before he drops down, laying kisses all along Harry’s torso, paying extra attention to all four of Harry’s sensitive nipples. He’s just worked Harry back up to full-hardness and is moving to find the lube in their bedside table when they both freeze, eyes locked on the bedroom doorknob which is now being wiggled around loudly.

They look at each other, equal looks of horror on their faces as they realize that the only thing that’s keeping their children from catching them in the act is the fact that said children are apparently incapable of working a doorknob. Louis has never been so thankful to say that his children are maybe just normal toddlers, not geniuses in every sense apparently.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers, and that seems to break the tension, both Harry and Louis snapping out of their shock and leaping off the bed to make themselves more presentable. Harry runs into the bathroom while Louis quickly grabs a pair of old boxers from the floor, making a side note to make sure to tell Harry later how the dirty laundry he’s always being told to pick up actually saved them this time.

Louis’ just pulling one of Harry’s old vintage band t-shirts over his head when the door flings open, their kid apparently figuring out how their pudgy little toddler hand can open a door. Louis literally jumps onto the bed, trying to look casual before realizing that a three year old is not going to think anything is up if they see him standing next to his bed.

Louis turns to look at the door and sees Mason there, one hand still on the doorknob and the other rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, bud,” Louis says, sitting up and glancing slightly towards the bathroom where Harry has yet to emerge. “Couldn’t sleep?” Mason shakes his head no and then reaches out his arms, making grabby hands in the classic Mason motion for “pick me up.”

Part of Louis wants to just take him back to his own bed and carry on what he was doing with Harry just moments before, but when he looks at his son’s adorable little face, he knows that’s not what’s going to happen. Sighing only slightly, Louis pushes off the bed and walks over to pick up his son, who immediately curls up in his arms, sighing contentedly as he’s carried over to Louis and Harry’s large bed.

Just as Louis’ setting Mason down on the bed and tucking him under the covers, Harry emerges from the bathroom, also dressed in boxers and an old t-shirt. When he sees Mason in the middle of the bed, he raises a questioning eyebrow at Louis.

“I thought all the parenting books said we shouldn’t spoil the kids and let them sleep with us,” Harry says with no real intent behind his voice, only meaning to tease Louis. As if Harry is going to say no to having Mason there, even if he did interrupt their previous activities.

Louis waves his hands at Mason’s sleeping form, Mason blinking up groggily at Harry before murmuring, “Papa.”

“You’re going to say no to that, baby?” Louis asks, teasing Harry right back, knowing that Harry has as much of a weakness for adorable children as Louis does.

They both smile at each other, shaking their heads fondly for how much of pushovers they can be when it comes to their own kids. Oh well. If giving your kid extra love and cuddles is a law, neither of them are concerned about disobeying.

They climb in on either side of Mason, and Mason practically purrs under the close attention of both his fathers. He grabs hold of Harry’s thumb to hug to his chest as he rolls over and curls into Louis’ chest. Louis notices that his cheeks are starting to hurt with how much he’s smiling, but when he looks over to Harry, he seems the same exact look of overwhelming love in his husband’s face.

“Night, Mason,” Harry whispers, kissing his chubby cheek. “We love you.”

Louis, making sure to not jostle Mason, leans up on an elbow and leans across to stroke Harry’s cheek, savoring this moment. Sure, he’d have loved to go for another round with his painfully attractive husband, but being here in such a domestic family moment is really all he ever needs.

Louis gently bends over Mason and kisses Harry softly on the lips. “Sorry we didn’t finish, baby,” Louis mumbles right against Harry’s lips, refusing to separate much at all before he kisses Harry one last time.

Harry shakes his head as Louis pulls away, smiling shyly down at his son’s sleeping form. “No. This is the perfect end to the night, Lou,” Harry says, and Louis finds himself nodding even though Harry’s not looking at him.

“It really is. I love you so much, Haz.”

“Love you, Lou. Good night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> Please leave any kind and/or constructive comments!! I am very fragile so if you didn't like it, please just don't say anything. 
> 
>  
> 
> Obviously I had to include a part where Louis eats ass. If I ever write a story where Louis doesn't eat ass, you can probably assume that someone's hacked into my account. AGAIN this has nothing to do with if Louis actually irl eats ass; I just always will write that into my character of Louis, no matter what AU it is in. He's just so pretty and has such facial features and prickly facial hair that I love the concept of him eating someone out. Is that weird? Oh well. We're all on this website, and we should all accept each others' creative choices. 
> 
> Also obviously I had to include side Ziam. That's always a must in any of my stories. 
> 
> Thank you. I truly love each and every one of you!!!


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